


Kinktober: Dacryphilia

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [25]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dacryphilia, F/M, Hand Jobs, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:22:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Julian has a bad dream.
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Original Character(s)
Series: Kinktober 2019 [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697680
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Kinktober: Dacryphilia

I awaken slowly, floating up through the darkness of a dreamless sleep into a shaft of sunlight that peeks through the gap in our bedroom curtains. The gentle scratches of a pencil against paper greet my ears, gathering sweet tingling sensations at the base of my skull. I smile before I even open my eyes. It’s been a long while since I heard that sound.

Julian is sketching me. I try to stay as still as possible once I’m able to lift a sleepy eyelid. But I don’t sleep on my stomach very often and now that I’m awake, I remember why. My mouth and nose are tucked so close to my elbow that I can hardly breathe and my ribs hurt from the weight of my own body pressing them into the mattress. At some point in the night I must have pushed the sheets down, because my whole back is bared to the room. The heat of the sun on my skin is a blatant reminder of Julian’s absence; he would’ve been first in line to catch the light had he still been beside me.

It takes a few seconds for him to notice I’ve woken up, so focused is he on the notebook resting on his forearm. I don’t mind, though; I rarely get a chance to watch him watching me. He has his tongue between his teeth and his brows furrowed so deeply it’s like he’s puzzling out the diagnosis for a dying patient rather than trying to replicate the shadow cast by the dip of my spine. Quietly and steadily, he taps the notebook’s leather binding, keeping time to a song only he can hear.

The mattress sighs as I turn my head enough to draw a proper breath. Julian’s eyes dart to mine and a quick succession of surprise, then guilt, then love flashes through them before he chuckles softly.

“There she is, my beautiful Reyja,” he says, beaming.

“Hey, Juley.” My voice is rough with sleep, but that only seems to soften his own even more.

“I hope I didn’t wake you, darling. I simply couldn’t allow this moment to pass unrecorded.”

“No, I think I woke up on my own.” I blink at him, eyes still hazy. “I like that you’re drawing again.”

“Oh! Erm…” He shifts the notebook from hand to hand, examining his work critically. “I’m definitely out of practice.”

“Can I see?”

“I suppose that’s only fair, as you both inspired and modeled for it.” Julian crosses to the bed and, at last, I push myself up, reveling in the pop of my joints. Making room for him, I curl onto my side and scoot back against the pillows as he sinks down and offers me the sketch.

Someday, I would love to be able to see myself as he sees me. Out of practice or not, the person he created looks so peaceful, so comfortable in her nest of rumpled bedding, with her eyes closed under bold brows, hair short and wild spilling over her cheeks, arms strong yet soft as they frame her face like foothills at the base of a mountain. I’m not sure I fully recognize who he made me into, but it’s unmistakably me nevertheless. Words fail as I stare at the drawing. Gently, so I don’t smear them, I run my fingers over the fresh lines, trying to think of something worth saying.

“I, ah, I don’t think I got your nose quite right. And these shadows here, where your ribs touch the bed, they aren’t, erm, they’re not dark enough. Makes the whole thing less dynamic, you know, if the value range isn’t— mmph!”

Julian swallows his critique when I press my lips to his. He moves his notebook from my lap to the nightstand the moment our tongues get involved, signalling that this won’t just be a quick little peck. Any lingering scraps of sleep that were still meandering through my veins evaporate as I rise to my knees, push him onto his back, and pin him down, letting my hands roam across his chest and flanks before I bury my fingers in his thick hair.

He anchors his own hands on my ass, kneading and humming in satisfaction the deeper he kisses me. His rough morning stubble scratches at my cheeks in the best way, igniting a spark between my legs that’s only fueled by the obvious interest on his part; though he’s tall enough that his cock isn’t trapped against my belly when I straddle him like this, the flex of his abdomen and buildup of heat as blood rushes to get him hard make for clear signs.

But there’s an unasked question in his touch, in the low whines and murmurs he tries to dampen, and the thump of his heart so close to mine gives me pause.

I brush his bangs from his eyes after I pull away from his mouth. “What do you need, lovely?”

Black pupils have swallowed the gray of his irises by the time he meets my gaze. He’s flushed with arousal, burning hot under my hands. “A-already touched myself twice this morning,” he admits breathlessly.

“Did you cum both times?”

He nods, squirming. “Wasn’t enough.”

“How long ago?”

“O-once near sunrise and again just… mmm, just before I started that drawing.” His stomach tightens. “Oh, darling!”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Hesitantly, and to my surprise, he shakes his head. “Need your cock,” he whispers.

Damn the body I was born with, that I can’t just give him what he wants right away. The rigamarole of getting up, putting the harness on, selecting the dildo I want from our collection… it all seems like so much more work than simply letting a natural organ do what it was made for. But it’s work I’m happy to pursue. I would do anything for Julian Devorak.

“Okay, Jujubee. I’ll go—”

He whimpers in protest. “Don’t leave!”

“I have to, lovely. If you want me to fuck you, I need the apparatus.”

“Let me help?”

What an absolute sweetheart. I love when he gets needy like this. “Alright. You can help.”

His face lights up and he kisses me again. I shift back onto his thighs so he can sit, his arms still wrapped around me, and offer a few quick strokes to his stiff, curved erection where it stands upright between us.

“Oh, Rey, please!” he moans.

I smile and steal another kiss before climbing off his lap. With his hands in mine, and his eagerness palpable in the very air around us, I tug him around the bed to the large chest under the window. He kneels to open it, only momentarily distracted by nuzzling my belly, and releases an urgent, strangled whine at the sight of everything we own that might bring him pleasure. But with my touch, he regains what composure he can to grab the harness from its new place of honor on top of our bundles of rope and swivels on his knees to hold it out for me. I step into the silver straps, resting my palms on his shoulders as he guides the waistband up my legs and tightens each buckle with reverence, pausing when he can no longer bear the separation to kiss my hips or press his nose into my pubic hair.

“What kind of cock do you want, ‘Bee?” I prompt as he starts to drift lower. Of course I wouldn’t mind his attention, but first I want to give him what he asked for so nicely. “The turquoise again? One of your glass ones? Something you haven’t felt in awhile?”

Offering him options usually helps him decide. He doesn’t seem to need it today, though, barely sparing a glance at the wide array of dildos before choosing a sleek, slippery black one, lined with smooth waves like a calm sea, and slotting it into the ring of my harness. His eyes don’t leave mine as he takes the shaft into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. One of his hands even creeps down to part his ass cheeks and begin massaging his hole, preparing himself for me.

“I’ll do that, lovely.”

Reluctantly, he lets the ridges of the dildo slide out of his throat so he can answer. “I can’t wait any longer!” His eyes roll back as his fingers make contact with their goal. “Oh, fuck, I need you, darling!”

He staggers to his feet and I realize that whatever’s gotten into him this morning is coming to a head right now. There’s a desperation in him I haven’t seen since we lived in Vesuvia, since the Devil tried to merge the realms. Since he thought he’d lose me again after finally remembering all we’d been through together. It’s the same panic-desire that flooded through him in the library when Nadia was about to catch us together for the first time and that tore him up just before his trial, when I told him I was going into the dungeons. He’s afraid. And I don’t think that fucking him into oblivion will give him the catharsis he’s after. I know my Juley: he needs love, not brutality, at times like these. The old Julian might beg to differ, but he hasn’t been that man in a long time.

“Come here, ‘Bee. Come on.” I open my arms and, gasping, he falls into my embrace. He’s trembling all over, clutching at my back, but he doesn’t resist when I start moving towards the bed. I lay him down gently and climb on top of him again; he’s told me before that he finds my weight soothing. Reaching down, I adjust the dildo so it won’t poke him in the stomach and sprawl across his chest. With my chin on his sternum, we stare at each other, both waiting for the other to speak.

“What made you want to draw me?” I ask eventually, stroking the solid swoop of his collarbone with my thumb.

He’s regained control of himself, for the moment, and answers me heavily, as though the words themselves must be individually sketched out before he can say them. “Oh, my love… I had the most horrible dream. A nightmare, really. It felt so real, I— I thought for a moment, even after I woke up, that it was. I thought that this, that you, were the dream.” He swallows hard, his fingers caressing my face. “I had to prove to myself that I was still here. And, well…”

I cover his hand with mine, pressing his palm against my cheek.

“If I wasn’t, I needed something to remember you by.”

“Juley…” His name comes out as more breath than sound. No wonder he was so anxious, so eager for an incontrovertible reminder of his own existence, no matter what it cost him. My poor Jujubee.

“You, ah. You can take the harness off, if you like.”

Looking into his eyes, though, there’s still a current of desire beneath the distress. The need for physical contact, to feel me so close that we’re one, hasn’t gone away; if anything, now that he’s pried the lid off the jar and freed the demons inside, it’s clearer than it was before, untainted.

“Do you want me to?”

“… no.”

Gently, I lift his head and kiss him. We go slow, little nibbles to parted lips, hesitant sweeps of the tongue that barely dip into each other’s mouths. Julian repeats my name like a prayer, hidden in sighs and moans and whimpers and grunts as I cover his body with invisible tokens of my love.

By the time I shift off of him and turn him onto his side, calling magical slick to my fingers, he’s nearly weeping, already overwhelmed. I lift one of his long legs up so I can coat his asshole and my dildo one-handed; we’ll still be able to kiss this way, and his height doesn’t make as much of a difference when he has to twist around to reach me. I can jerk him off in this position too. I don’t want him to have anything to worry about.

True tears don’t start to fall until I thrust into him. For a second I’m afraid it’s because he isn’t ready, but his fingers dig into my hair and he muffles his sobs by kissing me again and again and again. My cheeks are as wet as his when he pauses to press our foreheads together, eyes squeezed shut.

“I am loved,” he says, the affirmation forced through the thickness in his throat. “I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.”

My own throat grows tight too. “You are loved. I love you.”

“You love me.” Soft gray eyes rimmed in red peek open and train on mine.

“Every moment of every day and night and all the times in between.” I nudge his legs further apart and take hold of his cock, pumping quickly and firmly.

Julian sniffles and another couple of tears leak out, but he rubs himself against my palm, moving in rhythm with my hips and hand. “Even if I wake up from this,” he pants, “I will love you for the rest of my life, my darling.”

“Oh, Juley, you’re already awake. I promise. I’m really here and I really love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

He cums with a soft cry, straining into my touch. His creamy white spend catches in the thick hair below his navel, oozing through my fingers. With two orgasms under his belt today already, I’m not surprised he doesn’t have more for me, or that he released it so quietly. Even he has a refractory period, however loathe he is to admit it.

He lets me pull out when I attempt to, though he’s curled tightly against me, twisted around and cradling the back of my head. I want to wash the tears from his face, hold him, cuddle him and make him happy again. As I look up from loosening my harness, though, he’s already smiling.

“My Reyja,” he says, reaching for me.

I wipe his cum on my hip and take his hand. “My Julian.”

“Thank you, love. For, ahhh… for all of this.”

I lean down to kiss his shoulder. “I love you, ‘Bee. So much, and more every day.“ Cupping his unshaven cheek with my other hand, I match his smile with one of my own. “No matter what your nightmares say, I’ll be here to remind you of that with everything at my disposal.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

The sound of his laughter fills me with hope, just like the ray of sunlight that still cuts across the bed gleams on his alabaster skin when he rolls into it, sighing contentedly, snuggling me close to his chest as he watches the mid-morning shadows play on our intertwined legs.


End file.
